Harry Potter Returns to Hogwarts

Chapter One- A Special Saturday

"Aveda Kedavra!"

A green jet of light erupted from Voldemot's wand. The skeletal form of the Dark Lord towered above his intended victim. Red, glowing, cat-like eyes bore into Harry's own as the light struck him in the chest. Harry lie on the dirt of the long-forgotten graveyard, powerless...useless. The sound of Voldemort's high-pitched whispering laughter filled Harry's ears and was only overtaken by his own voice screaming, "NOOOOOO!"

Harry sat bolt-upright in bed, blindly grasping for his wand. His breath was coming in sharp, painful gasps. Instinctively, his hand clapped the scar on his forehead. Harry desperately tried to focus his eyes and braced himself for the searing pain he knew would come. It was only after several moments that Harry realized there would be no pain. No pain, he told himself. No pain and no Voldemort. Harry suppressed a cold shiver. "Just a dream," he murmured. "He's only a dream."

Harry Potter was no longer a Hogwarts student. He was now an Auror and had nearly seventeen years of experience behind him. Voldemort had not fared nearly so well. Three years after returning to power in the graveyard that Harry still dreamed of, the Dark Lord had finally been destroyed.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry rested his head against the bedstead. "I haven't had a nightmare like that in a long time," Harry thought to himself. As his heart returned to its normal rhythm, Harry gazed around at his room. Familiar surroundings forced the remnants of his nightmare to retreat. Harry's eyes traveled over the worn and comfortable furniture and came to rest on the bedroom window. A single beam of morning light had forced its way through the blinds. As Harry watched the dust playing in this determined ray of sunshine, he remembered that today was Saturday. A lazy glance at the clock on the bedside table told him was just past 8 am. Harry grinned to himself. "A perfect day for a lie-in," he thought. With his dream now thoroughly forgotten, Harry snuggled down in to the blankets.

Harry had just closed his eyes when something in the back of his mind clicked into place. For the second time in as many minutes, Harry was upright in bed, his hand slapping his forehead. "Merlin's beard," he swore as he snatched his glasses from the bedside table and jammed them on his face. Today was, in fact, a most imperfect day for a lie-in. For today was not just any odd Saturday. Today was Saturday...

September the first.

"Ginny! GINNY! Harry yelled as he hurried down the staircase. "Is everything ready? Is her trunk packed?"

Harry burst into the kitchen, smashed his toe on the nearest chair leg, and howled in pain. Hopping on his one good foot while trying to avoid the rest of the chair legs, Harry plopped into the very chair that had injured him, still nursing his injury. "You certainly know how to make an entrance," Ginny said, smiling. Assured that Harry was not going to do himself any more damage, she kissed him on the top of his head and returned to her cooking. "Everything is packed up and ready to go," she continued. After seventeen years of married life, Ginny was used to Harry's tendency to over-react on occasion...especially when it concerned Lily. As she placed a plate in front of him she added, "She'll be fine, dear. Now eat before it turns cold."

Harry smiled sheepishly and began eating the excellent breakfast prepared by his wife. As he ate, he stared lovingly across the table at the woman he loved.

Ginny had grown tall and slim in her last two years at Hogwarts. Her once long red hair was now cut to what her aging mother would say was "a sensible length for a woman your age". The lines around her eyes complemented, rather than detracted from them. It was still quite easy to see the body of the girl beneath the veneer of the woman. This was a fact that was not at all lost on Harry, who grinned at the thought of what lie under her dressing gown. Immersed in his daydream, it took Harry a moment to realize that Ginny was staring right back at him, a puzzled look on her face.

"What are you looking at?" she asked.

Harry cocked one eyebrow in response.

"Men," she breathed in mock exasperation, "that's all you ever think about!" As he laughed, Harry noticed that Ginny had not completely hidden the smile that was dancing at the corners of her mouth. "Eat your toast," she admonished him as she placed another plate of steaming food on the table.

As Harry returned to breakfast, a noise like a rampaging Hippogriff charging down the stairs announced the arrival of eleven-year-old Lily Potter. She pecked her father on the cheek, said, "Morning Daddy," and began devouring food from her plate as though she'd not eaten for a month. Harry could only manage to stare at her in mild bewilderment.

"Please try NOT to make yourself ill," said Ginny, a warning tone in her voice. "It would not do at all to arrive off the train with brand new robes covered in this morning's eggs and sausage." Harry smiled to himself once more, thinking that Ginny sounded more like her mother every day.

Lily Potter was, most definitely, her mother's daughter in many ways. She was tall and slim, with long red hair. She walked in much the same way as her mother did. Even Lily's voice was eerily reminiscent of an eleven-year-old Ginny Weasley. There were, however, two distinct features that Lily Potter had gotten from her father. Her eyes were almond-shaped and bright green, just like Harry's. And, just like her father, she had a real knack for disregarding rules. This was also a fact not at all lost on Harry. So, as the two of them ate, Harry pleaded with his only child.

"Now, Lily, please try and behave yourself at Hogwarts," Harry begged her. "Mummy and Daddy do not want to have to explain your misbehaving to any of your professors," he added.

"But, Daddy," Lily replied dramatically, "I am the only child of the famous Harry Potter. How could they do anything but absolutely ADORE me?"

Harry looked to his wife desperately.

"Don't look at me," Ginny retorted. "That's your daughter, that is."

"Snape will eat her alive," Harry thought morosely.

The next hour proceeded without a hitch. By nine-thirty, everyone was dressed and ready for the journey to King's Cross Station. Harry explained to Lily that the Ministry would be providing a car for them, owing to what Harry's Head of Department had called "precious cargo". Despite being grateful, Harry could not help feeling somewhat guilty about accepting such a favor.

Just as the car pulled up in front of the house, a soft fluttering noise, followed by dignified hooting, proclaimed the arrival of the morning post. "And how are you this morning, Juno?" asked Harry. The snowy owl nipped Harry's finger affectionately. Harry took this to mean that Juno was, in fact, just fine, thank you very much.

Juno had always been larger and stronger than his mother. Recently, though, Harry had noticed that the shine in his feathers was fading a bit. Nevertheless, he was still the mirror image of Hedwig in many ways.

Harry had never even known that Hedwig had hatchlings. He'd found out only after Hedwig had died-another victim of Voldemort's Death Eaters. Two years into Harry's auror training, Harry had come home one night to find Juno perched on his kitchen table, having flown through the window Harry had forgotten to close that morning. The similarity to his old friend was undeniable. How Juno had found him in the middle of muggle London, Harry never knew. Juno had remained with Harry (and his family) ever since. Harry couldn't help thinking, however, that Juno's days with the Potter family were growing short. Eighteen years was, after all, a long life for an owl, even a magical one.

Juno dropped a small stack of post on the table and flew out of the open window. Among the latest Wizard Sweepstakes notices (a brightly coloured post card that shouted, "You may have already won one million Galleons! Scratch off the Gold Gobstone to reveal YOUR lucky numbers!"), was an envelope bearing the Hogwarts crest. The address read:

Mr. and Mrs. Harry Potter

Kitchen Table

7 Hydrangea Court

Godric's Hollow

Harry sat for a moment, perplexed. The letter was clearly addressed to Ginny and him, but why? Hogwarts acceptance letters were always addressed to the student and Lily had received her two months ago. As he turned the letter over in his hands, Ginny joined him at the table. The smile had returned for another dance round her lips.

"What is this about?" Harry demanded, noticing the smirk.

"Open it," Ginny replied as she fought to keep a straight face.

Feigning calm and nonchalance, Harry carefully broke open the seal on the letter. He unfolded the parchment within and began to read. As he did so, he absentmindedly took a pull from his coffee cup...and nearly choked.

"You'll want to be careful with that," Ginny said. "I'll want to frame it for her." Ginny snatched the letter from Harry's hand as Lily came skipping into the kitchen to see why her father was spitting coffee all over the table. As Harry recovered himself, Lily glanced at the parchment in her mother's hand. Her eyes widened and she wandered from the room in an apparent state of shock.

Harry stammered his reply to the news.

"Wow... that's really, uh...hey....wait a minute. Frame it for her? You mean you knew and you didn't tell me?"

"Yup," Ginny replied conspiratorially.

"When did you find out?"

"About a month ago, I suppose."

"And no one told me."

"Harry, she wanted to surprise you."

"Well, she managed that brilliantly," said Harry

As he let out a long slow breath, a though occurred to Harry. She had to be the youngest-ever. Could she handle it? When he expressed his concern to Ginny, however, she seemed unruffled by the idea.

"I seem to remember a certain Gryffindor seeker, chosen in his first year," she said, playfully toying with his hair. "He certainly never let his youth hold him back. Besides, think of who we're talking about."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," said Harry. "If anyone could manage it, would be her."

The blast of a car horn reminded Harry that their ride to King's Cross Station was still out in their driveway. Harry brushed his thoughts aside and busied himself getting Ginny, Lily, her trunk, and the rest into the waiting vehicle. Five minutes later, they were on their way to the station. As their home faded from view, Harry could not help but think that this would be a very interesting first year for Lily, indeed.